


Kill Me Again

by writinginthesecrettrees



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Consensual Necrophilia, Dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dead Sam Winchester, Everything is consensual, M/M, Necrophilia, Season/Series 05, Serial Killer Dean Winchester, Temporary Character Death, lucifer's promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23488447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writinginthesecrettrees/pseuds/writinginthesecrettrees
Summary: A merging of fic concepts: Serial Killer Winchesters + Sam won't die because Lucifer keeps bringing him back + Sam and Dean already practiced some pretty heavy play between them before, feeding Dean's sadistic side and Sam's masochisim + Dean is angry about Sam's betrayal with Ruby = The brothers realizing they don't HAVE to hold back in their play anymore. Dean can go as hard as he wants because Sam keeps coming back to life. And in the process they work out their feelings reg. the Ruby thing.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 15
Kudos: 62





	Kill Me Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sorryimnotthatkindofdoctor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorryimnotthatkindofdoctor/gifts).



> Got passed a prompt on Tumblr, so this happened.

The first time it happens, Dean thinks it’s an accident. Breathplay gone wrong (and maybe he wanted it too, maybe he was punishing Sammy for the shit with Ruby that no amount of demon killing can erase from his mind), and Sam didn’t tap out before he passed out and Dean… Dean didn’t notice, not until he finished and let go of Sam’s throat and Sam didn’t start breathing again.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t have a heartbeat.

Looked like the dude they killed back in Mississippi, broken vessels in his eyes when Dean pulls the lids open and his face slack and his body limp and the start of fingerbruises around his neck.

And somewhere beneath the panic, beneath the clamor in his brain of _sammysammysammyfuckwakeupsammy_ and the roaring of blood in his ears, there’s satisfaction, a sort of release that they’ve never managed with ropes and whips and special occasion knives and guns, and the feel of Sammy’s quickly cooling flesh is erotic and Dean’s not quite sure if he wants to fuck him again or maybe take a bite. Or two.

He’s got his dick rutting in the cleft of Sam’s ass and his teeth clamped over Sam’s jugular when he feels a slow pulse against his tongue, Sam’s heart starting up again, and he bites down harder, just breaks the skin, tastes copper, and Sam sputters and gasps back to life. Sam arches into him, presses back against him, angles his ass so Dean’s catching on his hole every time he slides over it and it doesn’t take any thought to slide right in where Sam is still wet and open and warm again.

Dean bites down harder, lets his teeth sink in and then pulls back, thrusts harder when he sees blood roll down the side of Sam’s neck to stain the sheets under them, leans in to lick it up and comes again, fills Sam up and feels his muscles clench in his own release.

“Did you know?” he asks when he can speak again.

“Not… not for sure,” Sam says. “Lucifer said he’d bring me back, but-”

“But this is the first time?”

“I wanted it.” Sam hesitates. “I wanted it from you.”

Dean’s breath catches in his chest, his hand tightens around Sam’s wrist, and he stays silent.

“I know you’ve wanted to,” Sam continues. “Wanted to hurt me more. And when we’re playing with one of them? The ones you can really let go with?”

He falls silent, and Dean prompts him with a soft “yeah?”

“I’ve wanted to be them.”

“Why?”

“Because they get _all_ of you. You don’t hold back. And when you kill them, you look…” 

He trails off, and Dean doesn’t prompt him again, knows what he means already, because when he kills them he’s always always imagining Sammy under his knife, Sammy who’s always taken everything Dean could bear to give and begged for more, Sammy who he dreams of killing and can’t live without.

“Why didn’t you tell me? About Lucifer, I mean.”

“Would you have trusted it? That he’d bring me back?”

And Dean wants to say yes, but he’s not the liar, not the one who betrayed everything for a demon’s lies, knows even with all the anger and dreaming and pretending he couldn’t have taken that risk, not without proof that it would work. Now, though… Having seen it, having felt it…

“Can we do it again?”

He feels Sammy’s grin. “As much as you want, big brother. Wanna feel what Alistair taught you.”

Dean grins back, and shows him.

-

The tenth time it happens, Dean has Sam tied up, elaborately knotted rope holding him on his knees with his hands behind his back, and he’s watching Sam suck the barrel of a gun like he’s sucking cock, and Dean pulls the trigger with Sammy’s eyes looking up at him, pulls the gun out of Sam’s mouth and fucks his face with one hand teasing at the gaping hole in the back of his skull just so he can feel the bones grow back across Sammy’s beautiful brain. Sam comes to life as Dean comes down his throat, and it’s starting to feel like maybe they’ll get past the mess with Ruby.

And Dean kinda hopes they never stop Lucifer and Michael.


End file.
